Table of Contents
Everything began back in 2009–2010, when all of Europe started showing signs of exhaustion from the Global Financial Crisis of 2007. Most small and medium-sized businesses were struggling to survive financially. Unpaid cheques, loans that could no longer be repaid, and businesses closing one after another created a domino effect that affected millions of people.
At that time, we had already built our life in Greece. We had our home, our jobs, our friends, and our families around us. On the outside, everything seemed normal, but deep inside there was growing uncertainty about the future.
This was something that deeply worried both me and my wife, Lina.
I still remember one particular day in 2010. I came home after work and said to Lina:
“We have to leave Greece. Maybe even Europe completely.”
At that moment it sounded like a spontaneous thought rather than a real decision. But the next day we discussed it seriously again and started exploring our options.
Lina suggested migrating somewhere else within Europe. But in my mind there were only two countries: the United States or Australia. In the end, Australia seemed to offer more opportunities, a large country with a smaller population, room for growth, and an economy based on the dollar rather than the euro, which at the time many people in Greece associated with the economic collapse we were experiencing.
The decision was made. We would migrate to Australia.
From the very next day, Lina began researching ways for us to migrate legally and build a real future here. But we had two young children, and we knew nothing would be easy.
It took us more than a year to find a genuine pathway to migration. At that time, many migration offices in Greece presented Australia as an easy dream, without honestly explaining how difficult it really was to survive, obtain permanent residency, and eventually become citizens of this country.
In the end, the greatest responsibility fell on Lina.
She had to come to Australia alone and find a way not only for us to migrate as a family, but also to build a future here and establish ourselves permanently.
So on 19 October 2013 Lina came to Australia on her own. I stayed behind in Greece with our children, continuing to work while waiting for her to find the path toward our new beginning.
For the first time in our lives, we were separated for two whole months.
Those days were very difficult. Lina initially arrived on a tourist visa, and thankfully we never believed the unrealistic promises of agencies in Greece that were simply trying to take people’s money.
After two months, the phone rang.
It was Lina.
She said:
“Everything is ready. Bring the children and come.”
She had already found a college and converted her visa into a student visa in childcare studies. One of our close friends, whom we had met years earlier in Greece while she was on holidays, generously supported Lina and gave her a place to stay while all our paperwork was being organised.
Up until that moment, my parents still believed we would not leave Greece. They thought something would happen and we would change our minds.
But the truth was different.
There was no turning back from the decision we had made.
Saying goodbye was one of the hardest moments of my life.
I still remember my mother’s eyes full of tears as she asked me:
“Why are you doing this to me? Why?”
And I remember my answer to her:
“Mum, I understand your pain. And because I understand it so deeply, I am afraid that one day I will experience the same pain myself if I stay in Greece watching my own children leave me behind. I don’t want to live through that. Please try to understand me.”
She looked at me, wiped away her tears, and said:
“Don’t be sad, my boy. Do what you have to do. Only I truly understand you.”
On 19 December 2013, I took my children and began our journey to Australia.
We arrived in Melbourne at 3:30 in the morning after a 31-hour journey during which I could not sleep at all. My mind was constantly trying to convince me that we had made the right decision for our future, and especially for the future of our children.
Lina was waiting for us at the airport.
The moment we looked into each other’s eyes, I felt strong again.
For the first time in two months, I felt that we were a family again.
We went to the house Lina had rented in Lower Templestowe, and almost immediately I collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep.
The next day, our first real exploration of Melbourne began.
The skyscrapers of the city, the beautiful suburban homes, the parks, and the nature of Manningham made us feel that maybe we had made the right decision after all.
But at the same time, we had absolutely no idea how we would survive or eventually become permanent residents of this country.
One of the biggest challenges for us as new migrants was finding someone willing to rent us a home. As newcomers with no Australian rental history, many landlords were hesitant to take a chance on us, something that today I can understand.
Most of the homes available to us were old houses waiting to be demolished, usually offered with six- or twelve-month leases. This meant we had to move constantly.
The expenses were enormous.
As an international student, Lina was only allowed to work 20 hours per week, while we were paying thousands of dollars every month for tuition fees, public school fees for our children, rent, bills, transport, and at the same time continuing to pay our mortgage back in Greece.
The biggest adjustment challenge for me personally was the language.
Lina already knew English and attended further classes to improve even more. Our children were very young, George was 8 years old and Hector only 5 and they also struggled to adapt to Australian schools and a society where everything was in English.
At first, our children found it extremely difficult to make friends because of both language and cultural differences. It felt like two completely different worlds. Ironically, they communicated more easily with children who also struggled with English, even if those children spoke no Greek at all. Through that experience we realised that children somehow always find their own way to connect, even without a common language.
Although I had the freedom to work more than 20 hours per week, I had no time to properly learn English because survival came first.
Back in Greece I had worked as a sales manager for one of the largest companies in Northern Greece. In Australia I found myself washing dishes in restaurants, working as a waiter, mowing lawns, and taking on any job that would help us make ends meet.
Within seven months, the savings of an entire lifetime had almost disappeared. From around €60,000 that we had brought with us, we were left with only $452.
That was the moment reality truly knocked on our door.
I said to Lina:
“I’m going to start my own car detailing business. But I need to use almost all the money we have left to buy equipment.”
Mathematically, it made no sense.
But we took the risk anyway.
For three straight months, we survived on toast bread with ketchup and mustard. It is something neither Lina and kids nor I will ever forget.
Then, during the fourth month, things slowly began to change. More customers started coming, and with them came trust from the local community.
That was the first moment I truly felt that maybe we were finally going to make it.
Not because we were earning more money, but because we were beginning to earn the trust of the people around us.
A little later, I started a second business, MLGeorjakie, which later became known as MLJACKIE, a company focused on electric guitars and handmade guitar pickups.
Even my name became a challenge.
I still remember an Australian man telling me:
“Georgakis sounds too Greek for the market.”
That was how the name MLJACKIE was born:
M from Merkos,
L from Lina,
and Jackie from Georjackie.
As our businesses slowly grew, Lina completed her childcare studies but soon realised that childcare was unlikely to provide the long-term opportunities our family needed. So she changed direction and moved into aged care.
She worked tirelessly for years until finally receiving sponsorship through the organisation she worked for, which eventually led us to permanent residency.
It was an enormous relief after six years of struggle, sacrifice, and hundreds of thousands of dollars in expenses.
At the same time, our children were growing up without grandparents, without extended family around them, and without the comfort and stability they once had in Greece.
Inside our home, everything still felt Greek.
But outside our front door was another country, and we had to learn how to become part of it.
The key to our survival was one thing: adaptation.
Learning how to change the way we saw the world, without losing who we truly were.
Over the years, my business continued to grow. I began exporting guitar pickups to America and Europe, investing in laser machinery, and constantly creating new products.
At the same time, close friends, customers, and business partners helped me improve my English and gave me confidence to communicate without being afraid of making mistakes.
One thing that also helped me greatly was a free Manningham community program where volunteers helped migrants practise English at the local library. There, I met people from many different nationalities and realised that we all carried similar fears, struggles, and dreams.
In 2022, we finally became Australian citizens.
It was a feeling that is difficult to describe: relief, pride, emotion, and a sense of reward all at once.
During COVID, our guitar pickup exports helped keep us financially stable, while Lina became a TAFE teacher, helping train other migrants in the aged care sector. At the same time, she achieved another personal dream and became a chef.
All these experiences gave us the knowledge and strength to support other people who are now trying to build a new life in Australia.
Today we truly live by the Greek saying: «Τα αγαθά κόποις κτώνται.»
“The greatest rewards in life are earned through struggle, effort, and perseverance.”
Our eldest son, George, became a carpenter, while Lina, our younger son Hector, and I continue working together in our family business, MLJACKIE.
During the COVID period, we also became involved in artificial intelligence and created HumanAIWellbeing, a platform designed to provide information and support resources for people in the local community and beyond.
If I could give one piece of advice to a new migrant, it would be this:
Invest in learning the language first. Only when you truly understand the language of a country can you fully become part of its society.
Secondly, never allow people who disappoint or hurt you to pull you away from your goal.
Do not be afraid to make new friends. Give time to your family. And never forget where you came from.
Because one day, you will see your younger self reflected in another new migrant who is just beginning their own difficult journey.
